His voice is all gravelly and husky and, better still, in Russian.
Happily, I cuddle into him.
I associate Russian with intimacy because I only ever speak it with family. Which is fitting for him, I think.
Still, I grouch, “I have class.”
“I’ll get you there in time.”
He sighs and falls quiet.
I do too.
The sun doesn’t shine through the windows because he closed the blinds last night, but even though the room isn’t east-facing, light peeks around the edges, revealing our proximity to dawn.
But it’s restful and peaceful and cozy and warm.
I half-doze off, only to be woken with a soft kiss to the lips.
“You got dressed.” I immediately pout.
Sitting beside me on the mattress, he tucks my hair behind my ear. “Is that a complaint?”
“I like you naked.”
“Good to know. I’ll use the information to distract you in the future.Now,korovka,you can sleep another couple of hoursorI can drop you off back at your place. The decision’s yours.”
“Who’ll drive me if you don’t?”
“One of the guards.”
I sulk. “I’ll shower.”
“One day.” He taps my nose. “I’ll leave you in this warm, sleep-worn bed with a vibrator inside you and I’ll wake you up that way when I’m on the road.”
“That’s so mean! You can’t go out without saying goodbye to me.”
His eyes beam with glee. “Not the vibrator, though?”
“I suppose it’s technically nonconsensual touching, but not if I agree to it the night before.” I waggle my eyebrows. “Is this pre-marriage or post-marriage spankbank material?”
“Set a date.”
I smirk at him.
His thumb moves over to my mouth. I tense a little, surprised by the touch, then relax when he runs it back and forth over the soft skin.
“When we’re outside these walls, you know I can’t show weakness,kotik.”
I just nod.
He pulls down my lip a little, then toys with it. “You understand?”
I understand entirely.
He’ll eradicate any softness or indulgence from our interactions.
He’ll turn into the big, badShukherof The Forgotten Boys.
